


The Tub

by Lyledebeast



Series: The W: Collected Allan/Guy/Marian/Robin One-shots [6]
Category: Robin Hood (BBC 2006)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Kissing, Multi, Polyamory, Pregnancy, Robin and Marian's Daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-27 00:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8381068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyledebeast/pseuds/Lyledebeast
Summary: Guy has worries about fatherhood and goes to spend time with Allan, who makes him feel better. In a safe for work way.  This time.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [holyhobbitshit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhobbitshit/gifts).



> It was one year ago today that I published my very first work in this fandom! It, too, was a Gullan fic; my oh my, I've put the two of them through a lot since then. I love this pairing.
> 
> In addition to being a kind of anniversary commemoration, this is a gift to the lovely holyhobbitshit, who delights me regularly with gorgeous Guy and Allan gifsets on Tumblr. Thank you so much for all you do; you're one of my very favorite BBC Robin Hood fans!

Guy tightened his cloak’s collar around his neck as a cold breeze swept across the clearing, sending golden leaves in a flurry around his mare’s feet.  He was glad Marian had insisted that he wear it, for all the trouble he had given her.

“It isn’t that cold outside, Marian,” he’d insisted.  “It’s only October.”

“Just humor me, then,” she had said knowingly, smirking up as she fastened it on him.  “I want Allan to see it.  If he likes it, I’ll make one for him.  I certainly have the time now.”

Marian was in what she now called the “sewing stage” of her pregnancy: too big to be truly active in the sense that she as used to being, but not so big yet that her belly became a hindrance to working the needle.  Three years earlier, when she was carrying Morgana, she had made him three shirts which had since been worn almost to rags.

“I can make you more, you know,” she reminded him each time he brought one to her in need of mending.  “At this point, it would be easier.” But he would shake his head, promising to be more careful with them.  They were the first things Marian had ever made for him, and he couldn’t bring himself to part with them.

The cloak had been her idea.  “If you’re not going to let me make you new shirts, at least let me make something for you to wear over them!” She had already made a winter cloak for Locksley and was eager to try again to see if she could improve.  In fact, most of the sewing she had done so far had been for Locksley, as much as he hated standing still to be measured.  The way Marian had insisted, rather than giving up in exasperation as she usually did, made Guy wonder if she didn’t feel guilty, as much as she had denied it to him.  Was she making shirts and jackets and breeches for Robin because she was making something far more important for Guy.  The child growing inside her was his.

It was still hard to wrap his mind around, even four months after Matilda had confirmed that Maria was indeed pregnant again.  His initial worry had been Locksley, though he now saw how absurd that was.  If he didn’t object to Marian sharing his bed for the months it had taken for her to conceive, how could be object to the result? But then, Robin had been in London a great deal at the time, and a part of Guy still suspected that the idea was less unsettling to his former rival than the physical proof that his wife had another lover.

What a relief that he still had Allan and Knighton to escape to at times.  As the years since his becoming Lord of Knighton by King Richard’s orders had passed, he had become more and more involved in the managing of the estate.  His humility had survived even being knighted and his servants and those living on his estate had grown to love and him.  Even Guy had, at long last, grown comfortable enough to trust them not to expose his and Allan’s secret.

He was on his way there to spend the night, as he did frequently when the weather allowed.  In the past few months, his visits been less frequent, and he knew that Allan had noticed for all his silence on the matter.  “It’s alright.  I know you’re worried about Marian,” he had said when Guy mentioned it the last time. It was true, even now he couldn’t stop thinking about her.  But he did long to see his lover.  Though his relationship with Allan was so different than with Marian in both experience and in the feelings they shared, it was no less necessary to him.  He would reassure Allan that his feelings had not changed, and would not, however long his absences grew.

* * *

Allan found himself looking up from the papers he was reading every few moments to gaze out of the window, wondering when Guy would arrive.  Once he had engaged a tutor two years earlier, finally caving to Marian and Guy’s many suggestions, he had learned to read passably well, but he still found it wearying work.  The tutor had praised his cleverness, but did not have much confidence in that.  The man was being paid; wouldn’t he flatter anyone? Allan had to admit, he still hadn’t quite gotten use to paying people to do things for him, not even in three years.

There were no lack of perks in being a lord, however.  Who else could have visits from his male lover in broad daylight? The only risk was to his reputation, and what reputation had a man who had made his living as a poacher and pickpocket only a few years before to lose? If he had the king’s favor, that was what mattered, and the king had not returned to Nottinghamshire to withdraw it in all the time since he had returned from the Holy Land with Robin.  He was in France now, and seemed in no hurry to return, much to Robin’s frustration.  But if his staying away meant that he would never make claims upon Allan’s loyalty as his knight, then he himself would be glad to never see him again.

But as much as life had improved for him, he thought it paled in comparison to the change brought about in Guy.  He had realized in the years since Guy had moved back to Locksley to live with Marian and Robin that he had never truly seen the stern knight happy before.  He had been content and comforted with Allan when they only had only had each other, but then he was under such intense and constant strain working under the sheriff.  For all his flaws, Robin was a far kind master to serve.  It had not been a perfect transition, though.  There had been nights when Guy had appeared late, after the servants had left, to crawl into bed with him.  He and Robin had quarreled, and it seemed better for him to leave on his own than to be ordered out.  Or worse.

But then, Robin had been called to London to help manage the king’s domestic affairs so often, leaving Marian and Morgana alone with Guy.  Though he would never admit it, Robin seemed to have grown to feel some relief that Guy was there to protect his family during his absence.  It certainly seemed that he and Guy fought less when he was at home now.  Allan was glad to see Guy under less distressing circumstances, but now he seemed to see him less altogether.  He knew it was because of Marian’s pregnancy, but as much as Allan missed Guy, he could not blame him.  It was the thing he had always wanted most, to have a child with the woman he loved.  Guy deserved that; he had certainly suffered enough in his life.

Yet he couldn’t help feeling a bit anxious as well.  It wouldn’t do to mention it to Guy, though; that would only make him feel guilty.  He looked from the window back to the tub the servants had filled.  Well, not a tub, really.  It had taken four men to carry the heavy trough from the stables to the fireplace, and the effort it took them was enough to make Allan reconsider his original plan to have them carry it upstairs.  It would probably be warmer by the big fire anyway.  As they brought in the water to fill it, pail after pail, Allan found himself growing a bit sheepish.  There could be no doubt about what the purpose of the tub was, especially since he had asked the kitchen servants to prepare Guy’s favorite stew.

Finally giving up on his papers, Allan walked over to the tub and dipped his finger in the water to test the temperature.  It was warmer the he expected, but cooler than he liked.  The cold had come upon Nottinghamshire that fall before anyone was ready for it.  He considered asking a servant to bring more pails of water to put by the fire, but at just that moment he looked out the window again to see Guy leading his unsaddled mare to the paddock where he had left Goat, the stallion Guy had given him years before.  His little horse was nuzzling the mare’s neck as soon as she was near enough for him to reach, and it made Allan smile.  Marian wanted to breed the pair again; their first foal was almost old enough to be trained with a saddle and bridle now.  Allan had considered that he, as the sire’s owner, might ask for this second foal to be his.  Marian would be loath to part with it, he knew, but when she had two young children to care for, how much time could she still have for horses?

But that was a question that would have to wait.  Marian’s pregnancy was a touchy subject for Guy, especially now. He put the stack of papers back in the trunk and went to open the door for Guy.

“I haven’t arrived to early, have I?” he asked as Allan greeted him.

“Oh no, no.  I was just looking over the papers Adams had drawn up to show the farms’ productions over the past two years.  He asked me to, but if there were any mistakes, I would be none the wiser!”

Guy frowned, concerned.  “Well, if you want me to look at them . . .”

“Definitely not!,” Allan insisted.  “I didn’t invite you here to do the same thing you do at Locksley. Here, just sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

Guy hesitated for a moment before doing as Allan bid, as though he wanted to protest.  But he gave up with a shrug.  “I’m sure if Adams is satisfied, it will be fine.  After all, he taught me everything I know.”

Allan smiled at that.  Guy had been as quick to learn how to navigate the difficulties of estate management as he himself had been in learning to read, though for Guy it seemed even more remarkable.  Having trained as a knight all his life, he was now the steward of Locksley in all but name.  And the manor’s master would have had him thus named, if Marian had not put a stop to it. “He may not be the Lord of Locksley anymore Robin, but he’s not your servant either,” she had said, as she recounted to him later.  Allan had always liked Marian, but never more than at that moment. 

“It’s early for dinner,” Guy observed, bringing Allan’s attention back from his reflections. “Did you want me to. . .”

“I have a surprise for you, actually,” Allan piped up.  Guy quirked an eyebrow at him, glancing over Allan’s shoulder to the fireplace.

“Does it have something to do with the horse trough?” he inquired, sounding a little suspicious.

Allan gave a wry grin.  “Well, can you think of any other vessel big enough to hold both of us?”

Guy shrugged.  “I suppose it is a little too cold for the pond,” he assented.

Allan nodded enthusiastically.  “At this rate, it will be ice by November.” Looking back at the tub, he added, “if it’s alright with you, we’d better get in while it’s still a little warm.”

Guy stood, but made no move to undress.  He strode towards the tub and knelt to check the water with his fingers, just as Allan had done.

“You’re sure about his? Are you certain it’s not full of horse slobber?”

He had to roll his eyes at that.  “Honestly, what do you think I am, Giz? It came from the barn and hasn’t been used since who knows when! I wouldn’t take the horses’ water supply just to have a bath with you.”

Guy looked up from where he was crouching on the floor, and this time Allan could see the slightest trace of anxiety in his eyes.

“You know,” he began softly, “this won’t be the first time I’ve been in a trough full of water.”

As realization dawned on him, Allan cursed inwardly.  How could he have forgotten that? Robin had half-drowned Guy in a water trough just like this one, and might have finished him off had it not been for Marian stepping forward to save both her husband and lover at once.

He sighed with relief when Guy stood up and unfastened his cloak. “Just this once, and just to humor you,” he chided gently, handing it to Allan.

“This is nice,” the younger man said, rubbing his hand over the thick fabric he held.

“Good! You like it.  I’ll tell Marian, and maybe you’ll have one of your own.”

“She made this for you?” Allan asked. “But it’s grey. I thought Marian would make you one in, I don’t know . . . scarlet maybe.”

Guy sighed and shook his head, but not before Allan could see the smile playing about his lips.  It had been a long-standing joke between them that Marian had gotten tired of seeing him in black, and the garments she made for him reflected a veritable rainbow of colors.  It was true enough that she never made him anything black, and the dark color had almost entirely made its way out of his wardrobe as a result.

Allan couldn’t help watching as more of Guy’s clothes came off.  His body had changed as well.  He was still strong, though his muscles were not as defined as they had been when he was still serves as the late sheriff’s Master at Arms.  His riding was usually limited to Locksley, and he hardly ever trained with the sword anymore.  He had even stopped shaving his chest.  Guy never volunteered a reason, and Allan had never asked why.  He liked the feel of the soft hair against the smoothness of his own chest; sometimes, he wondered if it was what Marian preferred.  It took Guy looking up at him once discarded the last of his clothes to bring his attention back into the moment.

“Well, you don’t seem in any hurry, pet,” he teased.  “Are you just observing this bath, or are you joining me?”

* * *

Guy was pleased to find that water was warmer deeper down what his finger had felt, and he found himself sighing with contentment as he sat down  and lay against the back of the tub, bending his knees and sliding down until the water came up to wet the ends of his hair.  He had found himself less inclined to leave Locksley just to have it cut, and though he accepted whenever Much offered to trim it for him, he hated to ask on his own. When Much came to Locksley, it was always to see Robin, not him.  As a result, his hair had grown almost to his shoulders.

He had just closed his eyes in relaxation when he felt Allan lower a bare foot into the tub next to his hip.

“Are you certain there’s enough room for us both?” he asked, peering up as Allan lifted his other foot into the tub to stand over him.”

He smiled at Allan’s blush of embarrassment, watching as it spread.  “Well,” he said with a shrug and a shy smile. “I haven’t had a chance to try it, but let’s see.”

Guy sat up until the water only rose to his sternum and stretched out his legs again, giving Allan room to sit down straddling his thighs.

“Is this alright? Do you want me to lie back against the other side?”

“This is fine,” Guy replied, taking hold of Allan’s hips to keep him in place. “Stay close.  Keep me warm.”

Allan’s blush darkened even as he chuckled.  “I think we know who’s keeping who warm, Giz.  Unless is really is too cold for you,” he added, a look of concern replacing his smile.

Touched, Guy leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to his lips.  “It’s fine pet. I’m glad you thought of this.  It will be almost too cold to get in a tub before we know it.”

Allan smiled, relieved, and reached for the soap lying on top of the drying clothes next to the tub.

“Shall we start with your hair, or . . .” he inquired.

“Not unless you think it needs it,” Guy replied, lifting a hand to brush back his bangs, dampening them.  “I washed it at the well yesterday, when it wasn’t so cold.”

“Alright then, we’ll start with your chest.” He rubbed the soap back and forth between his palms until the white lather began to slide out from between his fingers.  Putting the soap back in its place, he lowered his hands to Guy’s chest and combed them through the hair in the center and just beneath his clavicle, making him sigh with pleasure.

“That feels good,” he purred softly, gasping when one of a Allan’s palms brushed over a sensitive nipple.  Allan made no response, but spread his hands wider to bring the lather up underneath Guy’s arms. He was concentrating so intently and was so quiet that Guy couldn’t help feeling a touch of concern.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been here in so long, Allan.  I just . . . Locksley’s been away, and I . . .”

“Giz, it’s okay,” he sighed.  “I know you don’t like to leave her alone, and even when he is there, well . . . I know it’s hard for you to be away from her now.”

Guy felt a lump form in his throat.  There was so much that he wanted to tell Allan, but he didn’t have the words.  If only he could make him understand what it was like, to feel so responsible for another person.

“It’s . . . different now, Allan . . . from before,” he explained falteringly.  “When she was carrying Morgana, I just wanted to take care of her.  I . . . I tried not to think about the baby and whose she was.  I just knew . . . Marian needed me, and I couldn’t let her down.  But now . . .”

“Now you feel responsible,” Allan finished for him.  “Because this is your baby.”

Guy heaved a deep sigh and nodded.  “I suppose, yes.”

“But doesn’t that . . .? I don’t know.  Doesn’t it make you happy . . . too?” Allan asked, his brow drawn in confusion.

He felt a nervous chuckle erupt from his mouth.  If only it were that simple.  “Of course I’m happy, in a way.  I always wanted to have a family.  Always.  Ever since I lost my parents and Isabella I thought, one day, I’ll have a family of my own, and everything will be alright again.  But . . . this.”

“It isn’t just what you thought it would be, is it?”

He shook his head with a wry smile.  “No, pet. It’s a lot more complicated than I thought.”

Allan nodded, seeming to understand.  “It’s because of Robin, isn’t it?  You’re worried about how he’ll feel about the baby? How he’ll treat him?”

He had to smile at that.  It had become so easy to forget that Allan was once part of Robin’s gang, one of the people who had believed so much that he was going dispense the justice England needed and that the sheriff, which Guy’s help, was violating. The reality had proven less romantic, and the fact was never far from his lover’s mind.

“No, Allan.  Would you believe it has nothing to do with Locksley? I don’t know how I’ll handle being a father.  There are so many things I might do wrong.  What if I . . .?”

Allan placed a hand under Guy’s chin, silencing him, and leaned down to kiss him again.

“You’ll be a wonderful father, Giz.  You’re a kind, loving, patient man.  And if you don’t believe it from me, look at how much Morgana adores you! She’s so wild she’s more fae than human, but who calms her when Marian’s at her wit’s end?”

Marian must have told him about that, Guy decided. Allan had never seen Morgana at her most out of control.  Marian could be stern for all her kindness, but sometimes the girl’s willfulness exasperated her.  He wondered if she could perhaps see too much of herself in the child.  But still, he could not argue with Allan’s point.

“If Robin’s daughter can love you so much,” he went on, “how much more do you think your own child will?”

All Guy could do for a moment was look up at him.  He wanted to say there was more than that, that the child might be ill.  Marian might have a more difficult time with this delivery.  It was even possible that he might lose both of them, a thought that had somehow never occurred to him during her first pregnancy.  Perhaps because there were so many other calamities that seemed more likely at the time. But all of these thoughts seemed too terrible to be uttered. He wanted to enjoy this moment with Allan, who somehow still, even five years after their first kiss, always knew how to make him feel better.

He sat up, wrapping his arms around Allan’s shoulders and pulling him against his chest.

“I love you, Allan.  No matter what happens, I . . . please know that.”

Allan pressed a kiss to his shoulder, and he felt his lips curve into a smile against his skin.

“I know it, Giz.  I love you too.  And that won’t change either.”

He pulled back slightly and put a hand on Guy’s chest, urging him to lie back against the trough again.  Then he lay down half on top of him and nestled against his chest.  Guy wrapped his arms around him, holding him even closer.

“I know some things will change, though.  I know I . . . probably won’t see you even this much, once the baby is born.”

Allan spoke softly, as though the thought pained him, and that was enough to make Guy’s heart beat quicken with worry.

“I . . . I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen, pet.” He pressed a kiss to the top of his head to emphasize his words.

Allan turned his head to smile up at him.  “Now, don’t get yourself worked up,” he cooed.  “I didn’t mean to upset you.  But change will happen.  Look how much has changed in the past few years.  I don’t think you expected that.  None of us did.  But look at how much better off we all are for it?”

There was nothing Guy could add to that.  He and Allan lay together in the tub until it truly was too cold to remain, then he got out, washing Allan’s hair quickly and drying them both off. They redressed, warming themselves by the crackling fire until a servant timidly peeked around the corner to announce dinner.


End file.
